These Lies That Bind Us
by POIJane
Summary: This is how things could have happened between Mrs D and Mr H. Rating varies.
1. Chapter 1

When they became neighbors and friends, Peter Hastings and Jessica DiLaurentis never saw anything in each other but friendship. Not until the morning she fought with Ken and chased him into the rain. She stood there, soaked to the skin and sobbing, calling his name and watching in disbelief as he ignored her, driving away without a backward glance.

Peter caught sight of her as he backed down his driveway. She was standing in the pouring rain in a thin robe, distraught and devastated, her hands fisted in her long dark blond hair. Stopping the car, the threw it into park and reached for his umbrella. Racing across the yard, he came to a stop at her side.

"Jessica!" He called to her, putting an arm around her quivering form, sheltering her from the rain beneath the umbrella. "Jessica, are you all right?"

"N-n-n-n-n-n-o," she stuttered.

She looked up at him with tear-filled blue eyes and his heart broke for his beautiful neighbor. Looking into her face, he saw something there he had never seen before, feeling a peculiar beckoning from her soul to his. He wondered if she felt the same tug as she looked at him with wide eyes.

Giving her shoulders a squeeze, he led her up the front steps and through the door. He escorted her into the living room, visually searching for a blanket or throw to cover her with to ward off a chill.

As he wrapped a throw around her, she whispered, "He's so cruel, Peter."

Momentarily stunned by her admission, he pulled himself together and queried, "What do you mean?"

"He makes me feel useless, stupid."

"Did you have an argument this morning? Is that why you were out in the yard?"

"Yes. I was trying to talk to him, but he ignored me. He just drove away as if I wasn't standing there."

"Jess, Ken is a hard ass. Did you think that would change with time?"

"It's gotten worse, that's what I'm trying to say."

"You can't let him get under your skin. That's what he's trying to do, but you have to ignore it or hide that he's hurt you."

"Thanks, Peter, that's great advice," she responded bitterly, walking to the window and watching the rain fall. "He gets to keep on being abusive and I have to smile prettily and keep taking his shit. Thanks for the talk, I'm fine now."

"Don't do this."

"You know the way out."

"What are you thinking about doing?"

"I don't know. I know I didn't sign up for this. I feel like I was just an acquisition and now my only purpose is to play hostess or hang on his arm at parties. I'm a prop."

He approached her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Gently, he said, "You didn't feel that way before? Be honest with yourself."

"When we were alone, he was different. I-I thought once we were married, he'd grow up and stop being a jerk. Instead, he's an even bigger asshole than I'd ever dreamed he could be."

"He's been under a lot of pressure at work. Maybe that's why he's lashing out at you."

"Or maybe he's having buyer's remorse."

"Ken is crazy about you, he said he always has been. He's not one for big romantic gestures or declarations, that's all. He isn't demonstrative."

"He's out til all hours, he acts like he doesn't want to be here when he is. Sometimes he comes home freshly showered." She turned her head, pinning him with a piercing look, "Do you think he's having an affair?"

Peter had known Ken for two years and in that time discovered he was a serial cheater in college, while Jessica had appeared oblivious. Whether it was willful, blissful ignorance, he couldn't say, but he knew her well enough now to tread lightly. She was explosive when provoked.

"I guess it's possible."

"I know about the other women, the ones in college," she stated, her tone flat. Turning to face him, his hands fell away, but the fire in her eyes warned of an imminent nuclear meltdown. "So, let's lay our cards on the table, shall we?"

"Once you open this door, there's no closing it. Do you understand?"

"How could it be any worse? At least now I'll know the truth definitively and won't have to bust my butt for approval he's never going to give."

He blew out a breath, his hands on his hips, looking beyond her to the rain-soaked landscape outside. "Yes, he's having an affair. No, you don't know her and she doesn't work with him."

Her hand fell to her side, her eyes lowering to the table to her right. She reached out, picking up a crystal curio, looking it over. A scream of rage erupted from her and she hurled the delicate item at the wall.

"Jesus!" Peter stared at her and said, "That was Waterford."

She shrugged, "It was a gift from his mother. One less possession for him to worry about."

"Are you all right? Do you need me to call someone?"

"I don't need to hear "I told you so" from every person I know."

"So, they uh, they know."

"Of course. My father never liked him. The only reason he agreed to the marriage was because Ken's family had money too. As he walked me down the aisle, he said this time he was going to let me learn the hard way."

"They didn't know you knew?"

"I couldn't let him be right, Peter, I _couldn't_. Don't you understand?"

"No, not really." He held up a hand and reached into his coat pocket, fishing out his phone. "Let me call Donna at the office. I'll tell her they can reach me on my cell phone and we'll talk some more."

Her features grew soft and she smiled tremulously. "Really?"

"Of course, Jess, you're my friend and I'm worried about you."

Her eyes welled with tears and she swallowed hard, whispering, "Thank you."

He nodded and smiled, "Let me make this call."

They talked for nearly two hours though the topic invariably drifted away from Ken and onto much more pleasant things. They spoke at length, relaxed and unguarded. Strangely, it was Jessica who exclaimed and apologized for keeping him so long.

"It's fine, don't worry. The boss knows where to reach me if I'm needed," he teased with a wink.

She laughed and suddenly stopped short, her eyes widening. "It won't matter that this is completely innocent, Peter. It won't matter that you were here being a friend. We've been alone together in my house for more than two hours after I learned my husband is cheating on me."

"No one would ever believe you and I had something going on, Jessica."

She bristled and demanded, "And why is that?"

"Look at you. And you have never looked at me as anything but a friend. I'm a friend of Ken's, but one he has never had much use for. Why do you think he let you hire me?"

"That's not true. I-I noticed you. And he had nothing to do with my hiring you." She ducked her head, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "And that is why you should go."

"Oh. I see." He nodded, scooting his chair back from the dining room table, but remained seated. "I uh, noticed you too."

"I knew that, actually," she responded slowly, meeting his eyes. "You are a good friend. But honestly, this isn't the first time I've wondered what if I had made different choices back then. If I had taken the time to peel back the layers, rather than letting myself get caught up in his charm and smooth talking and all the superficial things I put too much stock in. What if I had looked for a man with a good heart and a kind soul, a man who would appreciate me for who I am, faults and all?"

"Your life would definitely be different," he acknowledged. His heart began to beat a little faster, his mind racing with ideas, but his foremost thought was "is she saying what I think she's saying" and this got his adrenalin pumping. He decided to take the bull by the horns. "Jessica, what are you saying?"

From her place at the head of the table, she leaned over, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. "I'm talking about regrets, Peter. I had choices, other opportunities, but I settled for what I knew, what I was comfortable with. Now, I wish I'd been fearless."

Turning his hand, he clasped hers. "It's funny you said that, because I wish I'd taken a few risks myself."

A knowing passed between them as they gazed into each other's eyes. The spell was broken by the shrill ring of Peter's cell phone, their hands reluctantly parting.

"Hello?" He listened carefully and nodded. "OK, I'll be right there."

"See you tomorrow?" She smiled brightly, gracefully rising.

"Yeah, tomorrow. The barbeque."

"Yes."

"I'm glad we talked. I regret the circumstances, but I am glad we were able to chat."

"Me too. Maybe we can do this again some time."

####

It was Ken who first noticed the change. His wife was happy again. She sang while she cooked, the sound of her laughter filled the house, his criticisms rolled off of her like water off a duck's back. He didn't like it, not one little bit.

He began snooping through her things, checking for any kind of drugs, and came up empty. He watched her alcohol intake, feigning an increased desire for intimacy to check her breath, but there were no traces of excess. He even went through her dirty clothing, looking for signs of an affair, but once again, no dice. It irked him all the more because something was making her happy, his Stepford Wife had regained her personality, and that was simply unacceptable.

Initially, he was vigilant. He was a fixture at her side when he wasn't working, yet there was nothing suspicious in her behavior or movements. Her spirits were still high and that grated on him like fingernails on a chalkboard. Was it as simple as she had discovered a way to beat him at his own game?

As quick as he had been to anger over the situation, he was a man with certain appetites and those appetites would not be denied. He began to drift away, his interests in other women held more appeal than the mystery of his wife's good humor.

Eventually, she would grow weary of the game, fall back in line and become his version of the perfect wife again. But until then, he had plenty of pleasurable company to distract him from his marital woes.


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter has an M rating.

"Knock knock!" Jessica called cheerfully, poking her head into the garage.

Peter turned, a wide smile on his face as he wiped his hands. "Hi there. Come on in."

Taking his grease-stained hands and t-shirt, she quipped, "Changing your own oil?"

"Why not? It's less costly than the crooks at the dealership."

"A lawyer calling a mechanic a crook. There's a joke in there somewhere."

They shared a laugh and a long look.

"So, uh, what can I do for you?"

"Right, sorry. I know you like to work with your hands, so I was wondering if you could come over and take a look at my oven. Something sparked in there last night while I was cooking dinner and now only half of the coils are heating up."

"And Ken's "too busy" to help?"

"He's not home."

"Sure, I'll be happy to take a look. Let me finish up here and I'll be right over. Unless you have something else you need to do?"

"Just bake a couple of pies for the Alumni potluck."

"That is an emergency. I'd hate to miss a Jessica DiLaurentis pie."

"Peter? Are you out here, honey?" Veronica Hastings appeared in the doorway off of the kitchen, smiling as she spotted their neighbor. "Hey Jessica, how are you?"

"Great, you?" She climbed the small set of stairs and hugged the other woman. "I love the blouse."

"Thanks. I treated myself after I found out I wasn't really pregnant." She shrugged, looking over at her husband. "What about you? When are you going to give Ken an heir?"

She chuckled and said with a wink, "And lose this girlish figure?"

"You don't want children?"

"Maybe, someday. And you can laugh at my expense when it's my turn."

"Deal."

"Is everything all right?"

"Fine, I just wondered where you were. I forgot you said you would be changing your oil."

"When I'm finished, I'm going to run over to Jessica's to look at her oven. She said only half of the coils are heating up and she's got to bake pies for the potluck."

"Oh no. Where's Ken?"

"Working."

The tension in her features did not go unnoticed by Veronica and she felt a wave of pity for her neighbor. She was a beautiful, smart, articulate woman who had married a man who was a social equal, but a complete narcissist who gave her everything she wanted and nothing that she needed.

"Sure, he can take a look, and if he can't fix it today, bring the pies over here and use our oven. Is Ken going to the potluck?"

"Yes, he's going straight from work."

"Are you meeting him?"

"No, I've already committed to the fundraiser for the women's shelter. I'd forgotten about the potluck when I agreed to chair it."

"We'll miss you tonight."

"Oh, you're going?"

"Yes, I think it's best to keep busy."

"I'm seriously beginning to question the idea of procreation after some of the horror stories I've heard."

"If you want to be a mother, don't let that stop you. Yes, there are downsides, but the love you feel for your child is indescribable."

Peter sensed Jessica's discomfort and said, "I'm ready when you are."

"It was good to see you, Veronica. Call me if I can be of any help."

"Thank you, I appreciate the offer."

As Jessica and Peter walked out of the garage, she chattered happily at him. When they were halfway across the yard, she glanced at him and smiled. His frown in response put her on edge and flashes of her arguments with her husband flickered through her mind. A hard knot of fear settled in her stomach as she fell silent and walked beside him.

He followed her into the kitchen and she paused, keeping her back to him. "What's wrong, Peter? Are you and Veronica having problems?"

"Yes and no."

"Talk to me," Jessica urged, hopping onto the counter beside the stove. "Are you guys fighting?"

"Yes, but it's little things, petty crap." He put his toolbox down and opened the oven door, peering inside.

"That usually means something bigger is waiting in the wings. Or you just enjoy fighting, but I don't get that vibe from either of you."

"I don't think we're ready for a baby, Jess. I don't think it's a good time for us. We're both in law school, she's working part-time, I'm working full-time, we just…we aren't in a good place to be bringing a baby into things."

"But you aren't, Peter. She wasn't pregnant."

"She doesn't want to go back on the pill, she wants to keep trying."

"Have you talked to her, told her how you feel about it? How impractical and infeasible it is for the both of you?"

"She doesn't care about that! She doesn't care about being practical! She's caught the baby bug and doesn't want to hear anything unless it's what she wants!"

"Whoa, Peter, calm down. I understand, I really do. From both perspectives, actually. I don't think Veronica distrusts you, but I think she feels alone right now. You're both going to school and working, so you don't have a lot of time to spend together. She might even think you're unhappy with your life now."

"I-I can't say that it isn't true."

"Have you tried talking to her about this? You know, telling her your _feelings_. As a man, I know that goes against everything you believe in and that ridiculous code you live by, but you're going to have to do it if you want your marriage to survive."

"Remember when you said you wished you'd made other choices? Well, you aren't alone in that."

Jessica was taken aback. She realized she was gaping at him like a fish out of water and stammered, "You-you-what the hell is going on, Peter? You're like the Rock of Gibraltar, you never waver or second-guess anything about your life."

"Sometimes people can change your perspective on everything you thought you knew about yourself and the world around you."

"What's happened?" She looked down at him curiously, oblivious to the signals he was sending.

Standing, he stepped close to her, resting his palms flat on the countertop on either side of her hips. Her mouth opened in surprise, her eyes widening, her breath catching as he leaned into her, softly nuzzling her nose with his. Her eyes closed as his lips brushed hers with the lightest of touches, and she leaned into him for more.

They kissed hungrily and she wrapped around him like kudzu, pulling his body to hers. His hands slid to her backside and he ground his pelvis into her, groaning. He kissed the line of her jaw and down the long column of her neck, reveling in the smell and taste of her, in the softness of her skin. She worked her hands between them and made short work of unfastening and unzipping his jeans. He moaned as she touched him, skillfully arousing him as he fought with the button of her pants.

"Jesus, Jess, work with me."

She gigged softly, hopping down from the counter and wiggled out of her jeans, letting them slide down her long legs, kicking them away. He unbuttoned her shirt, kissing her skin as it was revealed to him, pulling her body to his when she was nude. She wrapped a leg around his hip and playfully nipped his lower lip, tilting her head back and meeting his gaze.

"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured.

Cupping her backside, he lifted her into his arms and she locked her ankles at the small of his back. Her arms around his neck, she squeezed her thighs around him, and lightly traced the curve of his ear with her tongue, chuckling throatily as his hands teased her naked flesh.

Her head fell back and she laughed as he stumbled from the kitchen and into a nearby guest bedroom. They collapsed onto the bed, wrestling playfully until she ended up on her back, their faces inches apart. He lowered his head and captured her lips in a sweet kiss, touching her face lightly.

Inhaling a gasp, she exhaled a moan the first time he touched her intimately. Her head rolled back, her fingers buried in his hair as she moaned his name and tugged on his arms. Her legs parted to allow him closer and he moved in, settling against her, kissing her brow as her body adjusted to his. She arched against him, signaling her readiness, and they began to move together, finding each other's rhythm easily.

In spite of it being their first time, experience, coupled with their emotional connection, gets them there. He was first, groaning her name, continuing to push into her to prolong his pleasure and to bring her off with him. Seconds later, she cried out repeatedly, her whole body clenching as she joined him, her nails pressed into his skin.

They laid together, bodies still tangled and damp with the sweat of their exertions, whispering lovers words and exchanging soothing caresses. Jessica shifted onto her side and rested her chin on his arm as she studied his profile. He gave her an affectionate squeeze, kissing her forehead.

"This feels so right," she whispered, breaking the fragile silence between them.

"It does."

"What do we do now?"

Burying his nose in her hair, he kissed her temple and murmured, "I don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter has an M rating.

It was nearly midnight and Peter was sitting outside with a glass of scotch and a Cuban, privately relieved to be free of his wife's company, giving him time to quietly reflect on his new relationship with Jessica DiLaurentis. He felt warm inside when he thought of her, and it wasn't just arousal, it was something deeper and lasting, an emotional connection that defied his understanding. His thoughts turned to a more carnal nature and he grinned broadly, puffing on his cigar, feeling relaxed and happy. But it would be short-lived.

A muffled crash to his left, Ken's distinct and raised voice pricking his ears. He sat up quickly, listening hard, as his neighbor shouted furiously. Abandoning his drink and cigar, he made the first tentative steps toward the DiLaurentis home. Ultimately, it was Jessica's scream and cries of pain as she begged him to stop that spurred him into action.

He crashed through the unlocked back door and ran inside. In the den, he found Ken, his wife pinned to the floor, his fist raised. Rushing over, Peter hauled his friend off of the crying woman and pinwheeled, pushing Ken against the wall forcefully. He ordered Jessica to go to his house and call the police.

Struggling to get free, Ken screamed, "You bitch! You call the cops and it'll be the last thing you ever do!"

Peter pushed Ken's head against the wall with his forearm, holding him in place, once again instructing her to leave. He waited until he heard her feet clambering down the front porch steps before speaking another word.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Ken? You're beating your wife now?"

"It's none of your goddamn business, Peter! You send that bitch back over here and keep your nose out of our lives!"

"The hell I will! You could be _arrested_, you dumb sonovabitch. I'm a witness, I'm the _star_ witness. You'll go to jail because this is a slam dunk. How do you think you'll fare in county jail, Ken?"

The other man deflated, his rage fading. "I-I-"

"Shut up. I don't want to hear your excuses. Sober up and think about what you did tonight. You'll be lucky if she doesn't hire a divorce lawyer Monday morning. If she does, friend or not, I won't protect you."

"Peter!"

"No." Disgusted, he gave Ken another shove against the wall before backing off. "Stay here. If you come over, I'm calling the cops, no questions asked."

"I'm sorry!"

"That's not enough. You're not some kid living in a frat house anymore! You have a wife and a career and a mortgage and if you can't handle that, you need to be up front about it with her. You need to tell her so she can find a new life before it's too late."

"I love her."

"Do you? Is this how you show it to her, drunk off your ass, slapping her around and screaming at her?"

"No, I-I just-I don't know what happened."

"Figure it out. Get your shit together and decide what you want. Until then, stay away from her."

"Yeah," Ken whispered, ashamed. "Yeah, okay. I'll uh, I'll leave her alone, you have my word."

"Good."

Peter hurried to back over to his house and locked the door securely behind him. He called her name, as he checked the windows and front door, satisfied it wouldn't be easy for Ken to get in before finally setting the alarm.

"Jessica?"

"In here." He followed her voice upstairs and found her on the bed he shared with his wife, her back pressed against the headboard, her knees pulled to her chest. She lifted her head and he swore under his breath as he saw the bruise already forming on her cheek and her bloody, split lip. "I'm fine, Peter, and I'm not calling the police."

"I knew you wouldn't, I just wanted to put the fear of God into him."

"Has he calmed down? Can I go home?"

"Yes he has and no you can't. You're going to stay here for a few days. He needs some time to get himself together and you need to do the same."

"Decide what? What did he say?"

"I told him to decide what he wants because he's not a kid anymore."

"Is that what he wants? To keep living out his frat glory days?"

"That's what he needs to think over, Jess." he answered honestly. "What set this off? What made him get so drunk and do this? Is this the first time?"

"I-I told him I knew he was cheating. He'd been drinking since he got home, probably started before he got there, honestly, and he was being especially hateful. Maybe his little girlfriend stood him up, I don't know, he was just in a pissy mood when he came home.

"He told me the food I'd made was slop, threw his plate into the sink and broke it, then ordered me to clean up the mess he'd made. I took his usual barrage of insults, but when he tried to pretend none of it had happened because he wanted sex…I just lost it."

"I don't blame you. If I was in your position, I would be angry too."

"What set him off, what you walked into, wasn't because I told him no. I told him something I shouldn't have, even though it's the truth and he deserved to know."

"What did you say?"

"Remember the day I asked you to fix my oven?"

"Yeah, the coil had burned up."

"Two weeks before, I had an abortion."

His jaw dropped. "You what?"

"It's true and I told him because-" she broke off, shaking her head, tears in her eyes, "I told him because I wanted to hurt him the way he hurts me. He completely flipped out. That's why he got physical, he was beyond furious with me."

"You understand why though."

"Yes, of course."

"Why did you do it?"

"Because I can't stand the thought of having a child with him the way we are now."

"Did you consider counseling?"

"Ken? In couple's therapy? Give me a break. Hell will freeze over first."

"That's a fair point. But maybe he would have been more receptive if you had told him about the baby."

"Maybe," she said noncommittally, shrugging.

"Why don't we take a break and get some ice on your face? Lets clean up your lip too."

"Sounds good. I don't know how I'm going to explain this away."

She rose and Peter, distracted by the fact she was wearing a chemise in deep burgundy that ended mid-thigh, didn't immediately process her words. Once he did, he frowned and queried, "You have had to explain away other injuries?"

"A few, though this is the first time he's hit me in the face."

"Christ, Jessica, what the hell has been going on over there? I never thought Ken was capable of something like this."

"Maybe I bring out something dark in him," she muttered, walking away,

For a moment, he stood stunned. He caught up with her in the kitchen and watched her gently place a bag of frozen corn against her cheek, hissing quietly. He gently sat her down and pulled a dishcloth from the drawer, soaking it with cold water.

As he dabbed at the dried blood on her lip and chin, he asked, "Why did you antagonize him, Jess?"

"You've heard the way he speaks to me. I've had enough."

"All right, just relax. I understand, I really do. A person can only take so much."

Casually, she inquired, "Where's Veronica?"

"She is in New York for the weekend. Emma Dockery is having her bachelorette weekend."

"Peter, as fortuitous as this is, are you sure it's a good idea?"

"Would you rather go home and see if Ken has sobered up?"

"No!"

"I think you've got your answer. You'll be safer here and I can keep an eye on you and protect you if it comes to that, should he decide to crawl back into a bottle and go for round two."

Stricken, she bit her lip and winced, tenderly touching the wounded flesh. "My God, Peter, he was so mad. I've never seen him like that, ever. When he pinned me down and starting hitting me, I'd never been so scared in my life."

Mindful of her injuries, he kissed the uninjured side of her mouth, cupping her face with his hands. "Thank God I was outside smoking that cigar or I might not have heard you arguing."

Trembling, she climbed into his lap, straddling him, hugging him tightly around his neck. He was struck by how childlike and guileless her desire to be held and comforted was. Regardless of the innocence in their embrace, no one would ever believe there was nothing more between them than friendship. But in the moment, he didn't care. He was frightened out of his mind when he saw her pinned to the floor by her husband, who was preparing to strike her again.

"It's okay, baby," he whispered in her ear, his hands stroking up and down the length of her spine, "You're safe here."

As her tears soaked through his shirt to his skin, rage began to burn within him. She was no delicate flower, but she was no match for Ken in a fury. He could have hurt her badly, or worse, killed her, and now that he had crossed that boundary to physical violence, Peter feared for her safety. She wasn't just his lover, she was his best friend and confidante. What began as a friendship had become so much more than either had bargained for, something he was coming to depend on.

The sounds of her uneven breaths, followed by a low moan, broke the spell of his musings. Realizing his hands were on her hips, gently encouraging movement of her body against his. He felt the stirrings of arousal, his desire for her more than the physical, and it hadn't diminished in the six weeks they had been doing this. Nuzzling the soft skin of her neck with his lips, his hands slipped beneath the hem of her chemise, caressing her silky skin, lightly squeezing her bare buttocks.

"Peter," she gasped, ripping his shirt open, sending buttons flying, pressing soft, wet kisses to his skin.

"Be fearless," he whispered. Lowering one strap of her gown, kissing and licking his way to her exposed breast. Before latching on, he said softly, "Be fearless with me."

She groaned gutturally as he suckled, her fingers attacking his fly, deftly exposing him as she searched frantically for the rungs of the chair with her feet. Finally locating them, she found purchase and took him into her body, forcibly lifting his head so she could look into his eyes as they made love. When it became too much to bear, she threw her head back, crying out his name, and melted against him, boneless.

"Jess," he murmured, sliding his palms over her sweat-dampened skin.

"Hmm?"

"You all right?"

She sighed and said softly, "I've had a helluva day. This is exactly what I needed."

He chuckled, giving her butt and affectionate swat. "C'mon, lets go to bed."

Jessica sat up, stretching slowly and got to her feet. As she adjusted her gown, she felt the tell-tale sticky trickle down her inner thighs and grabbed Peter's arm, her expression alarmed.

"What's wrong?"

"We didn't use a condom."

He raked his hands through his hair, making it stand up. "Okay, don't panic. It was only once. Besides, you're on the pill."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Chances are, we're fine. We just have to be more careful. Like you said, it was only one time."

"Exactly."

"Okay. Okay. We're fine."

"Absolutely."

With an impish look, she asked, "So, where am I sleeping for the next few days?"


	4. Chapter 4

Their wild lovers weekend ended at 8:17 pm, when Veronica walked through the back door. Fifteen minutes prior, Peter and Jessica had just returned from dumping the physical evidence of their weekend in a dumpster behind the Git-N-Go gas station on the outskirts of town. She paused, just inside the back door, surprised to see a tall blond standing at her sink. The woman was busy stuffing the guts of a bell pepper down the garbage disposal, and didn't see or acknowledge her entrance.

"Honey, welcome home," Peter greeted, giving his wife a hug.

Jessica turned with a slight smile and said, "Hi, Veronica."

"Oh my God! Jessica, what happened?" She rushed from her husband to her friend, embracing her carefully. "Was it a car accident?"

"No, the back of Ken's hand," she quipped, lowering her eyes.

"What?!"

"He hit me."

Turning to Peter, she demanded, "Did you call the police?"

"No, I had her stay here and I told him I was a witness to him attacking and threatening her, so he'd better calm down and think about what he wants before he tries to contact her again."

"I can't believe he hit you," Veronica says quietly, shaking her head.

"Why don't you two sit and talk? I can finish the cooking."

"Yes, come have a seat and tell me what happened."

Veronica led her into the living room, taking a seat on the couch beside her friend as Jessica, who trusted her friend to hold her tongue, relayed the events from Friday night. Outraged and horrified by Ken's actions, she put her arm around her friend's shoulders, offering their home as a shelter for as long as she needed it.

"I should probably go home tomorrow after Ken leaves for work. Peter was gracious enough to buy me a few things because I had nothing but the nightgown I was wearing."

"Oh good. Peter can go with you to make sure nothing happens while you're there, as a precaution. Make sure to pack plenty of clothes for your stay with us."

"I appreciate your hospitality. I guess I have some decisions to make."

"Of course, Jessica. I am appalled by his behavior! I can understand being upset because of the abortion, but my God, if he's been abusing you in any way, I can completely understand why you wouldn't want to bring a child into that. I can't believe he hit you!"

"I didn't think he wanted to have children. The lifestyle he wants to lead is no place for a child to grow up in. And I will not allow my kids to be exposed to anything like that."

"He never struck me as kid-friendly."

"I think he and I should talk, but I'm afraid to be alone with him now. At least if he decides to divorce me, I have a witness to his abuse."

"Has he done this before?"

"Nothing as bad as this. He's left bruises on my arms from grabbing me. Mostly, it's emotional. He has an uncanny ability to make me feel completely worthless."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Before or after we were married?"

Veronica blinked, surprise washing over her. "He did this before you were married? Why the hell did you marry him, Jessica? Did you think you could change him or something?"

In a small voice, she answered, "Because I loved him and I really believed he would change. I thought he loved me too. Now, I think I'm property and he can do with me as he wants."

"Have you thought about counseling?"

"I'll ask you the same thing I asked Peter, do you see Ken in couple's therapy?"

"Well, no, and if he agreed he would BS his way through it to finish as quickly as possible."

"Thank you."

"And I promise I'll pay you both back for the clothes and the hospitality."

"I'm not worried about that. My God, Jessica, you should have called the police and made a formal charge because if he tries to divorce you, his lawyers can try to sell the judge on the notion Peter is lying to help a friend."

"He took pictures so there won't be any question that I was beaten up."

"You're lucky we're both in law school," Veronica joked

"I'm mostly grateful Peter was outside and heard the commotion. I don't want to think about what might have happened if he had never heard us arguing." She pinched the bridge of her nose, her head swaying slightly. "I really don't want to talk about this anymore. How was your weekend? Did you send Emma off in style?"

Veronica fidgeted uncomfortably. She had hoped Peter had kept the details to himself, but obviously he hadn't. It embarrassed her to be in this position, knowing they both knew Jessica had been purposely excluded. Worst of all, Jessica seemed unaware most of the females from their circle couldn't stand her and had yet to understand why.

"Uh, yes, we did. Much of it I felt was too much. We're a little old for costumes and drinking binges, aren't we?"

"It depends on the situation, I suppose. But Emma loves dramatics, so that is right up her alley." There was no malice in her tone, her face held no anger or disgust, and Veronica was relieved that Jessica simply didn't care. "The important thing is, did _you_ relax and have some fun? I've heard law school is tough."

"I did," Veronica beamed, "Even though I ended up being a babysitter for a bunch of intoxicated, entitled, hoochie mommas."

Jessica hooted with laughter, "Did you really just say hoochie mommas?"

"I heard a girl use it on campus last week. Who knew some of those women were so wild? I don't remember them acting like that before."

"That's probably because we were drunk too," Jessica remarked wryly.

She chuckled, "That makes sense."

"What did they do?"

"We were thrown out of three bars the first night. Emma's bridesmaids, the ones I didn't know, hired a group of strippers and not only was I the only one who stayed completely clothed, everyone, including Emma, had sex with at least one of the strippers."

"Please tell me you took pictures for blackmail at a later date."

"Of course I did. I'm nearly a lawyer, aren't I?"

"Thatta girl!"

Peter, who had kept and ear open for tears or another catastrophic meltdown, was surprised to hear the two women laughing. Grabbing a dishtowel, he wiped his hands and peeked into the living room. He was astonished to see the two looking like two undergrads sharing secrets. Except Veronica and Jessica were never especially close. If Jessica wasn't the Queen Bee, she was lobbying for the position, whereas Veronica was contented to be a supportive friend and shoulder to cry on.

"Hi, Peter," Veronica said around her laughter, "Is dinner ready?"

"Almost. I just wasn't expecting to hear you two laughing."

"She was telling me about her trip to take my mind off my troubles."

"I'm happy it's working." Peter smiled at the two, "I don't think you laughed once all weekend."

They both knew he was lying, but she played along with the charade. Neither denied the guilt they felt in deceiving her, especially to her face. Their attraction, emotional connection and need for each other surpassed everything rational and what they held dear.

"I didn't have much to laugh about," Jessica responded softly, her eyes locking with his, "But I appreciate all of your attempts to lighten my mood."

"That's what friends do." He glanced at his wife and nodded. "I'd better check on the food. I'll call you when it's ready."

"Peter, I can finishing cooking. Veronica just got home and I'm sure you want to spend some time with her."

"It would be faster if we all pitched in," Veronica stated logically.

As they went about the task of finishing the meal, Peter was stunned by Jessica's ease in his wife's company, while he was jittery and fearful she would look at them and _know_. Instead, the meal passed smoothly and Jessica insisted on cleaning up afterwards, shooing them out of the kitchen.

He followed his wife into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she unpacked her suitcase. She paused, kissing him sweetly, resting her forehead against his.

"What's wrong, hon?"

"It was the most draining weekend of my life."

"I don't know why you went. You never liked those women in anyway."

"I know, but I needed a break, from school and from work. I know I only work part-time, but it's hard. And I know you know what I mean. God, how do you deal with the stress of it?"

A brief flash of Jessica writhing beneath him flitted through his thoughts and he smiled, shrugging, "I dunno, I just focus on the good things, I guess. This too shall pass."

"Well, I'll give that a try." The playful look in her eyes faded and she asked seriously, "How is Jessica doing? Really?"

He sighed, "She was…she was really shaken up."

"I don't doubt that. God, what the hell is wrong with Ken?"

"He's been drinking pretty heavily lately and he's been having an affair."

"What?!"

"Ssh! She knows about it. I confirmed it for her because she demanded the truth, but we need to keep that under our hats. She is humiliated and worried everyone knows."

"Um, did she tell you why she married so young? Why they moved here and why she dropped out of college?"

"No, I assumed they moved here to make their own way and she dropped out because she got married."

"She got pregnant her sophomore year of college, Ken was a senior. She told her mother because she was distraught and convinced her life was ruined. Her mother told his mother, who told his father. Ken's father insisted he do the right thing and Ken balked, stating she was just trying to force marriage on him.

"In an effort to protect both families' image, the young couple was escorted by their mothers to a clinic in Atlanta proper and all of them were witnesses to an ultrasound that conclusively confirmed the pregnancy. She was eight weeks pregnant, so they hastily planned a small family-only wedding and publicly stated the kids had eloped. They planned a huge, hoity-toity reception and invited all of Atlanta society.

"So, to escape the gossip, they moved here after Ken graduated. He got into commercial real estate in Philadelphia and she decided to get her license also. Apparently Ken told her since he was forced to marry her, she was going to work and contribute something to the marriage."

"My God, I didn't know any of that. How did you find this out?"

"My Ethics class. Her name is Chloe and she's from Atlanta. Her family has serious money and she has known Jessica and Ken's family since birth. She said they've been on and off since high school and they went to college together, but he was basically cheating on her the whole time."

"She did tell me that she knew about the other women when they were in college," he said, cocking his head. "What happened to the baby?"

"She miscarried at thirteen weeks. The doctor said it was a combination of factors, likely the fetus had a severe birth defect and the unusual amount of stress she was under with the wedding ordeal, moving, taking classes for her real estate license and now we know he was abusive."

Disgusted, Peter said, "And though that gave him an out, he had no grounds for a divorce that wouldn't give her half of everything."

"Exactly."

"What a prick."

"You took the words right out of my mouth."

"So, you agree we should help her any way we can?"

"Absolutely. Personally, I think we should encourage her to leave him and file for divorce."

"Pragmatically, I believe a part of her wants to do just that. But they've been married for five years and she loves him, no matter how irrational that is."

"We could tag team her, take a run at her separately but persistently."

"In the nearly three years we've lived next door to them, how have you missed that she's a ticking time bomb on any given day?"

"That's a good point. And I don't want to be around if she explodes. Remember when she went off on that bus boy? He actually cried!"

"I felt sorry for the kid."

"Everyone did. She should have a warning label."

"I did, but I managed to pry if off," Jessica joked, leaning against the doorjamb. "I just wanted to let you know I'm turning in. If I'm going to get my things, I need to be up bright and early."

"Don't you dare take off on your own. Take Peter with you."

"I promise to wait. See you in the morning."

Trading guilty looks at being overheard, Peter stood and went to the kitchen for a glass of water, while Veronica finished unpacking and putting her toiletries away. He noticed the back door was unlocked and pulled to. Warily, he opened the door and peeked outside. In the dim light from the kitchen, he spotted Jessica, her long form lying on the chaise, smoking a cigarette.

"What are you doing?"

"It should be self-explanatory," she retorted.

"Since when do you smoke?"

"I smoke when I'm stressed. I'm currently under stress, Peter. Did I scold you for smoking a cigar?"

Changing tactics, he asked, "Do you want to try to patch things up? Is that your plan?"

"I don't know. Yes and no, honestly."

"And the other thing isn't helping matters any," he said, speaking in code in the event someone might be listening.

"No, it isn't. That's what makes me not want to."

"I'm not suggesting you make any life-altering decisions right now, but I think until you figure things out, you should maintain the status quo."

She inhaled deeply, exhaling smoke through her nose, "I intend to."

"Good. So, I'll see you in the morning?"

"Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

He reached over and touched her ankle, discreetly caressing the bone before standing and going inside. She smoked two more cigarettes before returning to the guest bedroom. She heard the murmur of voices from the room next door and bared her teeth. There was an old clock radio on the high chest of drawers and she turned the radio on, tuning it to a rock station. She adjusted the volume, high enough to block out any unwanted sounds from next door, but low enough so it didn't bother them.

Making her way through her nightly ritual, it was a quarter to eleven when she crawled into bed. It was morning before she knew it and she rose, padding like a zombie to the bathroom. She bumped into Peter on her way back to her bedroom, smiling smugly at the lascivious look he gave her as he took in the sight of her in the same chemise she had been wearing the night he rescued her. She breezed past him, enjoying the feeling of his eyes on her body.

She was washing her hair when the bathroom door opened. Pausing, she listened as the door closed, hearing only a soft rustling sound. She put her head under the water, rinsing away the shampoo, and felt a cool draft against her skin. The hands that touched her bare skin were unmistakable and she smiled, wiping her eyes as warm lips caressed her neck.

"Mmm, this is an interesting development," she murmured.

"I figured I should seize the moment. This opportunity probably won't present itself again."

"Probably not."

She moaned as he teased her with his lips and tongue, making her forget everything but this. She didn't object as he pressed her back against the wall of the shower, instead she held him tighter, hooking a leg around his hip.

"This time, I came prepared." He held up a foil packet.

It was over quickly, both too excited by the danger of being caught. In the aftermath, they shared soft kisses, marveling at the effect each had on the other.

"We should clean up and get ready," she whispered.

They reluctantly parted, each taking their turn washing up. He stepped out first and went to get ready for the day. After he was dressed and ready, he poured himself a cup of coffee, waiting for her to appear. Thirty minutes later, she breezed into the kitchen for coffee.

"Why don't we take these to go?"

"Good idea."


	5. Chapter 5

Jessica used the spare key to let them into the house. She froze when she spotted Ken sitting in the living room reading the paper. She looked at Peter, stricken, as Ken folded the paper and stood, slowly approaching them, his hands outstretched, as if trying to calm a frightened animal.

"Ken," Peter said, a warning in his tone.

"Jess, please, I just want to talk. I'm completely sober, in fact I didn't drink all weekend."

"You're abusive when you're sober, how can I trust anything you say?"

"What I did was wrong, and I know that. But when you told me you'd had an abortion after we lost the first baby, I was just so angry. I snapped." He stopped, looking at Peter pointedly.

"Unless Jessica says she feels safe enough to talk to you alone, I'm staying right here," Peter declared.

"I have the right to talk to my wife."

"The day you hit her, you gave up that right."

"Please, stop it! Peter, wait for me in the kitchen. And you, you've got five minutes to tell me why I should give a damn about anything you have to say."

Ken waited until Peter left the room to begin explaining himself. "First, I'm sorry from the bottom of my heart. Second, I swear, I'll quit drinking like I have been, I swear it on my mother's life. Third, I want this to work. I do love you, I always have, I just, I don't know why I cheat, but I want to get to the bottom of it and stop."

She crossed her arms and turned away, rolling her eyes. It was more of his lies, she knew. It was the first time he'd sworn anything on his mother's life and he adored her, so the heavy drinking would likely stop finally. But everything else would slowly rear its ugly head, it always did. He would never stay faithful, he was a man whore and always would be. This time, however, she would get in a laugh of her own.

He stepped up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I love you, honey. I want to start over. What do you say?"

"If you ever hit me again, it's over, Ken. For good. And I will ask Peter to testify to what he saw. I'm not kidding, I'm not going to cave on this with time, either. So, you'd better be sure you can keep yourself in check."

He vowed, "I will, Jess, I swear it. And I agree to your terms."

"I haven't made any terms. Yet."


	6. Chapter 6

Jessica breezed into DiLaurentis Properties, greeting everyone she met with superficial pleasantries as she made her way to her office. Closing the door behind her, she strode to her desk and reached for the mail on corner of its immaculate surface. As she leafed through, she made a mental note to remind her secretary to remove the junk mail before bringing it into her office.

At the bottom of the stack was a plain white envelope with her first name scrawled on it. Her heart skipped a beat as she opened the newest envelope with a letter opener and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. As she read it, tears fill her eyes. A knock at the door startled her and she fumbled with the letter, nearly dropping it as she called out for her visitor to come in. She jammed the paper into the envelope and buried under the other mail as the door opened.

"Can I come in?"

Grinning, she faced Peter and nodded. He closed the door and they met halfway, remaining physically at a distance from each other. He raised his eyebrows and she nodded, putting her hand over her heart.

"So, I was thinking I would go out to the Hidden Lake property later this morning. We've had some problems with kids out there."

"We really need to do something about it, it's becoming an issue."

"I was hoping you could come with me, maybe we can figure out a way to keep them out of the house at the very least."

"Not a problem. I'm concerned we could potentially share the liability if someone's kid gets hurt out there. Or worse. We have to be able to prove we've done everything we can."

"I've kept the local police informed and made a report each time I've found the remnants of a party."

"Good, we can show we've done the responsible thing by reporting it's become a trouble spot."

"So, eleven-thirty then?"

"That will work. But what about your classes?"

"It's handled, don't worry."

"Well, great. I'll meet you at the front door."

"See you then."

Reaching for his hand, she turned it palm up and traced 'I L U 2' on the skin. He smiled, curling his fingers around hers, squeezing gently.


	7. Chapter 7

They laid on a blanket by the lake, the shade of an ages-old oak tree providing relief from the summer sun to the naked, entwined bodies beneath it. She hummed as his hands caressed her flesh, feeling relaxed and drowsy. His lips caressed the nape of her neck and she laced her fingers with his as his hand came to rest on her abdomen.

"I wish we could stay like this," he whispered.

"This property is gorgeous. It's on the lake, but not too far from town, and the acreage gives you privacy."

"The house is great too," he said, "Completely modern while maintaining that feeling of long ago."

"The kitchen is wonderful. Marble countertops, double oven, range top stove, that huge island in the middle, _that's_ what a kitchen should look like."

"It's the perfect place for a successful couple to settle into, a haven from the hectic pace of their professional lives."

"I was thinking the exact same thing," she laughed, turning to face him and rubbing his bare chest.

"We've been gone nearly two hours. We should head back."

"I know, but I wish we could stay here, just like this." She echoed his earlier sentiment, naked longing in her eyes.

He cupped her face, his fingers tangling in her dark blond hair as he kissed her hungrily. When they parted for air, he rested his forehead against hers and asked, "Do you mean it? Do you _really_ mean it?"

"Yes," she whispered, stroking his jaw with her thumbs, "I really mean it. Do you?"

"Yes, God, yes, I mean it."

Their passion rose again and she rode him to a simultaneous release, collapsing against him. They traded whispered endearments in the aftermath, certain on their course of action for the first time in a long time.

They parted reluctantly, cleaning up and putting their clothes back on. They kissed goodbye and walked along the well-beaten path through the overgrown yard. Jessica left first, pointing her Jag, a birthday gift from her father, toward town. Peter waited ten minutes and followed the same path she took until he reached town, running errands and returning the key to the office before going home for the day.


	8. Chapter 8

Peter entered the house after a long day's work, but only one sale, and was met with soft jazz and the smell of Chinese takeout. He frowned because his wife was still supposed to be at work, and instead he found her lying on the couch, her hand resting on her abdomen.

"Veronica? Are you all right?"

"Oh, Peter, you're home." She sat up slowly, smiling radiantly.

"What's going on?"

"Let's eat and I'll tell you my big news."

"Big news?"

"Come on." She took his hand, beaming, leading him into the kitchen. He took his place at the small kitchen table, watching her carefully as she carried the bag of food to the table and unpacked it. She encouraged him to start filling his plate while she opened a bottle of wine and poured him a glass. "Here you go."

His suspicions grew exponentially when she sat beside him with a glass of water. "Okay, what the hell is going on?"

"I have some really great news."

"I can't wait to hear it." He took a bite of orange chicken, extra spicy the way he liked it.

She squealed, "I'm pregnant!"

He stopped chewing, feeling as if he had been sucker punched. "What?"

"I'm pregnant! Six weeks!"

Swallowing, he took a gulp of wine, stalling for time to get his thoughts together. By fate or by design, he was trapped now. "You went to the doctor?"

"I had an appointment after my study group."

"This is-wow, a big surprise. I thought we'd agreed to wait until after we passed the bar."

"I know we did, but I guess nature took matters into her own hands."

Rising, he did exactly as expected and hugged her. "That's great news, honey."

As he returned to his seat, managing to choke down the food on his plate, his mind worked rapidly. Intimacy between them had been pretty sparse in the last few years between law school and work and stress. It was one of the various reasons his eye had wandered, but by no means the top reason. As he thought back, he remembered a series of careful seductions instigated by Veronica, and there was a sinking feeling in his stomach.


	9. Chapter 9

"Hey, I was just thinking you," Jessica said sweetly, stirring her coffee.

"We have to talk. Is Ken still there?"

"No, he left an hour ago. Is something wrong?"

"Yes. I'll be right over."

He hung up before she could reply. Biting her lip, she frowned, setting her cell phone on the table beside her. When he knocked on the door two minutes later, she knew by the dullness in his eyes what he was about to say was not good.

"Peter? What's wrong?" She watched in horror as he reached into the liquor cabinet for the bourbon and drank straight from the bottle. "What the hell is going on?"

"Veronica."

Her eyes widened and she asked timidly, "What about Veronica?"

"She's pregnant," he said in a flat tone.

"Wh-What? What did you say?"

"I started thinking last night after she broke the "good news." I remembered thinking how odd it was that she went to all of the trouble to stage the scene for romance the last few months, so I called the pharmacy this morning. I asked if it was all right if I picked up her birth control pills. They informed me she hadn't picked them up in three months and her prescription had lapsed, so she would need to see her doctor for another script."

"Oh, my God."

"I don't think she suspects anything, she's just determined to have a baby."

"What does this mean for us?"

"Checkmate," he muttered, flopping onto the sofa beside her.

Shaking her head in disbelief, she said, "But our plans. Peter, neither of us are happy with our lives. We aren't in love with our spouses. You're just going to give up what we have?"

"What choice do I have? My wife is pregnant, I can't run off and leave her."

"Please, Peter! Men do it all the time. Ken tried to wiggle out of marrying me."

"Calm down. She lost a baby before, maybe she'll lose this one too."

"You're willing to risk everything on chance?"

"I can't abandon them."

"But you can abandon me, just like that?"

"No, of course not. For now, we'll keep things just as they are."

"Right. So, you're going to keep screwing me and I'm supposed to be happy about being your whore?"

"That isn't what I mean. Not exactly, anyway."

"Yes it is! Did you mean anything you ever said to me or was it all lies to keep me on the string?"

"I meant everything I said, Jess. I _do_ love you. I loved you long before our affair began, when we were just friends."

"How can you do this to me? We have already betrayed them, why can't we just make a clean break?"

"Whether she asks for it or not, the judge will give her everything. No judge will ever see past me divorcing my pregnant wife!"

"Then give her a reason to divorce you!"

"How? Beat her and berate her? Tell her I have a mistress? We still lose."

"Avoid her! Stay late at the office, spend more time in your study group, start pulling away from her. Do all the things Ken did to me, without the other stuff."

He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes wild. He pushed his chair back and stood, resting his hands on the tabletop. Angrily, he slammed his fists onto it and began to pace the kitchen. After a moment, he stopped, his back to her.

"I'll try. I promise I'll do my best to push her away. It should be easy now because I'm furious with her for doing this. I'll use that to motivate me."

"Peter, I have to know you want a life with me. If you don't, take your own advice and tell me now."

"I do, you know I do. Wasn't I just planning a future with you last week? But you have to know I feel an obligation to Veronica."

"Yes, sweet Veronica, who lied and misled and seduced you until she got pregnant," she spat and stood, circling him so she could look into his eyes. "I'm no fool, Peter. I knew you were still sleeping with her, just as you knew in some dark corner of your heart I was still sleeping with Ken because we had to keep up appearances."

Peter scowled, "Why are you still sleeping with him? After all he's put you through?"

"Because something told me to keep my options open. Oh, right, it was common freakin' sense!"

"All right, I admit a part of me knew it. I don't want to argue."

"It's too late to kiss my ass now. We need to hash this out once and for all, but now isn't the time."

"Now isn't the time? Are you kidding me?"

"I have to meet with Skeeter Richland in," she glanced at her watch, "Twenty minutes. That isn't nearly enough time to say what needs to be said."

"You're meeting Skeeter alone," he demanded.

"I'm evaluating his work on the Dunbar property. My plan is to flip the house and make a profit."

"Jess, have you heard about this guy?"

"You mean his weakness for blond twentysomethings? Yes, I have."

"And that doesn't concern you. Not even the least little bit?"

"You forget I grew up in a world where men with means see younger women as a door prize. I can handle myself."

"No way am I letting you meet him alone," Peter said stubbornly, "I'm going with you."

"Not a chance."

"Yes, I am. And you've got eighteen minutes to get over it."

She cursed him all the way to her bedroom, hurriedly slipping her feet into her heels while pulling on a tailored jacket. After a quick check of her makeup and a touchup to her lipstick, she hurried back to the kitchen, a scowl marring her lovely face.

She snapped at him, "Let's go," and stalked to the door.

Silently, he followed her. His eyes widened when she snapped her fingers, pointing to her car stiff-armed, a silent command. He complied, reeling at this side of her. The ride was completely silent. They had never had a serious argument before and he didn't know how to approach her. Finally, girding his loins, he covered her hand, which rested on the gearshift. Relief flooded him when she shifted her hand, allowing his to lace with hers.

"This doesn't wipe the slate clean," she warned, "We're going to continue this conversation."


	10. Chapter 10

This chapter has an M rating.

Later that day, Jessica was in her office reviewing paperwork. Absently, she turned on the desk lamp, unconsciously noting the light was growing dim. The phone on her desk rang and she growled irritably, barking a greeting.

"Honey? Everything okay?"

"Ken," she sighed, rubbing her forehead wearily, "I'm just tired."

"Why don't you come home? I'll order in, open a bottle of wine, give you a massage?"

"I'll be home in a bit. I want to get through this paperwork."

"Jess, you've been working too hard. You still haven't kicked that nasty flu and you've been exhausted for weeks. I think you should go see Dr. Browning."

"I just need to rest more. It takes awhile to get over the flu."

"You do need to rest more, so finish up and come home. I'll have supper waiting."

Too tired to fight him, she said, "Sounds good. I'll be home soon."

"Good. I love you."

"You too."

She hung up and scooted her chair back, opening the middle drawer of her desk. Staring down, she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. Slamming the drawer shut, she rose, noting the shadows in the room matched her mood. Gathering her briefcase and jacket, she started to leave her office, fishing in the side pocket for her keys. Pausing at the door, still rummaging, two hands came to rest on her hips, a nose burrowing through her hair to expose her nape, warm lips caressing her skin.

"I thought you were staying late to catch up on paperwork," Peter murmured.

"I was, but my brain got tired," she quipped.

"Is the rest of you tired?"

Dropping her things, she turned, wrapping her arms around his neck. "No, and you're still not off the hook for earlier today."

"Let's talk about that later," he said, kissing his way to her ear.

Smirking, she rubbed her cheek against his as her fingers tangled in his dark hair, pulling his face from the crook of her neck, her eyes meeting his. She brushed her lips against his, pulled back and looked at him again, whispering, "We _will_ talk about it."

They kissed hungrily, divesting each other of their clothing. When they broke apart for air, she looked at him as if memorizing his face. She smiled, nuzzling his nose with hers and kissed him tenderly.

"Jess," he said, cupping her face and tracing her lower lip with his thumb, "What's going on?"

"Nothing. I just-I want to remember this."

He held her close, caressing her skin in a soothing, affectionate manner and kissed her temple. "I do too. I love you, Jess."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do. I'm not one of those guys who throws those words around. I _do_ love you. I've admitted I married the wrong woman."

"I know you're caught in a trap," she whispered, her voice breaking, tears in her eyes.

"Oh baby, don't cry. We'll figure something out.'

"Yes, I know we will."

She led him to the leather sofa and sat, beckoning to him to join her. He settled on top of her, her head resting on his forearm as he caressed her outer thigh with the fingertips of his free hand, enjoying the shiver and subsequent goosebumps it elicits. Sliding her thigh up over his hip, she squeezed lightly, arching her pelvis against his. He groaned, grinding against her, grinning as she gasped and clutched at his arms.

They made love with a tenderness they never had before. He looked into her eyes, noting the spark he had started there was extinguished. She closed her eyes then, shutting him out for the duration of their lovemaking, but she could not hide her physical response to him. She writhed beneath him, her legs wrapping securely around his waist, moaning his name as her nails left half-moon indentions in his skin.

Peter groaned as her nails lightly scratched at his lower back and moved faster, ratcheting up her response to him. She climaxed quickly, but it was weak, her cry of dismay spurring him on. He slowed down and shifted, focusing on the sweet spot high inside her. His efforts were rewarded with a whimper and the clasp of her body around his was like a warm hug for a welcomed guest. Raising an arm above her head, her hand scrabbling for something to hold onto in the onslaught. Catching her left hand, he pressed his palm to hers, their fingers tangling.

"Peter," she whispered, her brow wrinkled, her head rolling back.

He kissed her throat, jaw and lips, repeatedly murmuring, "I love you" tenderly. Sliding his other hand to the small of her back, he lifted her against him as he thrust into her, deepening the penetration. She moaned, her body gripping his, her thighs tightening around his waist. He grunted, pushing deeply into her, spending himself. She cried out repeatedly, coming long and hard, one hand clutching his fingers tightly, the nails of her other hand scoring the flesh below his shoulder blade. When it was over, she promptly burst into tears and stricken, he left her body as he maneuvered them into an upright position so he could cradle her, in an attempt to soothe her.

"Talk to me," he murmured.

"There's nothing left to say," she sobbed.

Rising on wobbly legs, she pulled the object from her desk drawer that sounded the death knell of their relationship and tossed it to him. He fumbled, catching it, his expression of horror confirming her worst fears. She reached for the roll of glossy paper, rounded the desk and stood before him. He accepted it with a trembling hand, unable to look at her as he unrolled it, staring at the pictures.

"Is that-are you really-"

"Yes and yes. And before you ask, I'm fourteen weeks pregnant."

"Four-fourteen _weeks_?"

"Yes."

"You're sure it's mine?"

"Think back, Peter."

"When you had the abortion?"

"No, the night you so gallantly rescued me from my loving husband."

He paled suddenly. "Oh, my God."

"By Jove, I think he's got it," she retorted, sitting on the arm of the couch.

"Jessica, please, don't be sarcastic now. This isn't the time."

"Don't tell me how to react," she shouted tearfully. Rising, she crossed her arms over her chest, staring out the window at the darkness, putting as much physical distance between them as she could without leaving the room. "Don't you dare tell me how to feel about the end of this dream."

"Why didn't you tell me? This test was almost three weeks ago!"

"Because I lost a child at thirteen weeks, Peter! I didn't feel safe in saying anything until I got past that mark!"

"I just can't believe it. It was only one time," he muttered, shaking his head. "Wait, so you've known for three weeks. You're planning to keep this baby."

"We're both old enough to know it only takes one time. And yes, I am. I thought we would…"

"This is a shock. A big one." He rubbed his eyes and asked carefully, "And you're sure it's mine and not Ken's? The doctor is sure you're that far along?"

"Ken didn't touch me in any way for weeks after I came back home. He was trying to regain my trust. And yes, based on the baby's size and weight, he's sure."

"What will you do if Ken does the math?"

She deflated, the last vestiges of hope hidden deep in her heart dying. "I will tell him it's not an exact science. He knows the drill, we've been down this road before."

"Do-Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"That's not your concern now."

"How can you say that? You're carrying my child!"

"I cannot play this back and forth game with you anymore. I won't."

"What game?"

"You've said for months now you want more with me, but you aren't making any moves. I feel like you led me on."

His silence and inability to meet her gaze told the tale. As if seeing her for the first time in months, he noticed her abdomen was more convex than he remembered, and felt like kicking himself for not noticing it before. While he wallowed in self-pity, she pulled on her clothing piece by piece, gathering her purse and briefcase. And impatient sigh escaped her when she noted he was still sitting on the couch, naked.

"Peter! Come on, I have to get home! I told Ken I'd be home an hour ago."

Her tone was cold, abrupt, so unlike the woman he knew. Blowing out a breath, he rose, dressing quickly. He left her office, gathered his own belongings and went home without speaking to her. It was over and he knew it, but he wasn't relieved as she suspected, he was devastated. He had been so close to escaping the confines of his marriage for everything he had ever dreamed of and now, the only thing left to do was accept his fate.

As he drove home, he fought down the naked despair that threatened to overtake him and whispered, "Goodbye, Jess."


	11. Chapter 11

It was a bitter pill for Peter to swallow, watching Ken dote on her as if she was made of glass when they came over to share the news of their impending arrival. He tried to do the same for his own wife and came up woefully short because his heart wasn't in it. It irked him how easily Jessica slid into the dutiful and loving wife role; it made him wonder if she had been lying to him all along too.

Three weeks later, the DiLaurentis' hosted a block party and cookout to announce they were moving back to Georgia. Peter felt sick as he watched her gracefully accept good wishes and congratulations, her eyes only straying to his when Veronica dragged him over to the couple to hug them both and wish them well. He wanted to ask her why she was avoiding him, why they couldn't bury the hatchet and part as friends, but he refrained.

Then it occurred to him one afternoon after her assistant informed him for the umpteenth time she was out of the office for the rest of the day, this time for a doctor's appointment, it was just as painful for her to see him.

He stopped trying to pin her down or force any kind of situation where their paths might cross. In those last days, he left her alone, instead focusing on school and closing on his remaining properties. The day before she was set to leave, Jessica's assistant appeared at his office door, asking if she could come in.

Smiling, Peter responded, "Sure, Donna, come in. How's life treating you?"

"I can't complain." She smiles and lowered her eyes to the plain white envelope in her hands, growing serious.

"It's okay, Donna. I never was the greatest salesman anyway."

"I'm sorry, Peter. But with Mrs. D so far away, she wants to scale back a bit so the office will be a little bit more manageable."

"She's keeping it open?" This information surprised him.

"Yeah, I'll run the day-to-day operations, but she'll still be the boss. She wants to talk every day or so and will fly me down if something big comes up."

"Congrats, Donna," he said sincerely, "You deserve this. You do great work."

"Thanks, Peter." She fidgeted for a moment and stood, holding out the envelope. "If you ever need anything, let me know."

It hit him like a blow to the head. She knew, or strongly suspected at the very least. He smiled too brightly, accepting it. "Thank you, that's really great of you."

She left quietly, closing the door behind her. He had a sick feeling he wouldn't like what the contents held. He sat down hard, opening the envelope, pulling out a handwritten letter. Unfolding it, he began to read.

_Dearest Peter,_

_You have irreparably broken something in me, but it isn't only your fault. I knew better; married men rarely leave their wives, they offer empty promises to keep a girl coming back for more until she wises up and accepts the truth for what it is._

_I am carrying your child, but this is only a technicality. It is my hope that things have worked out for the best. I have you to thank for giving me the gift in my womb. Ken will be his father in every way that matters, he has become the husband I always knew he could be and I thank you for that too._

_I want you to know I will always love you. Our better angels demanded we let go for the sake of the commitments we made before we ever met. I can't lie and tell you I'm happy because we both know Ken will never be everything I need. Instead, I will think of you and mourn what that could have been. I will hate you for showing me Heaven and leaving me in Hell. I will carry you in my heart for the rest of my life._

_Always,_

_J_

_*the end*_


End file.
